Metamorphosis
by Stuckinmycocoon
Summary: Callie's photo may have gotten Kiara a foster family, but Cole didn't actually think it would work for him. After all, who would want a transgender kid whose own flesh-and-blood turned him out? Until, that is, he finds out that someone does.
1. First Meeting

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Fosters, only the plot and any characters you don't recognize from the show._

_Author's Note: I couldn't get this idea out of my head, so I decided to write it down to give myself some peace. I might leave it as is, or I might make it a series of one-shots that come as inspiration hits. If you think I should continue it, let me know. Otherwise, hope you like it!_

* * *

"Cole! C'mere for a sec," Michelle called.

"Yeah?"

"I just had an interesting phone call on the topic of you. What would you say to a visitor in the next day or two?"

"A visitor? What kind?"

"The kind that's interested in taking you home to live with them."

"What? A foster family?"

"Yes. A foster family. They saw your profile. Interested?"

"Sure, I'll meet them."

"What do you say about tomorrow afternoon?"

"I'll make room in my busy social calendar," Cole said with an eye roll.

"Alright, Mr. Sarcastic. I'll call them back and let them know."

Cole turned to leave, and then a thought occurred to him. "Hey, what are their names?"

"Emily and Alex King."

"Cool." Cole turned and walked away. He was tempted to stay, to try to hear the conversation when Michelle called them back, but she seemed in no hurry to pick up the phone, so he went up to his room instead. A family. Somebody had read his profile and was interested. Interested in him. He knew, logically, that his parents weren't happy with his "lifestyle" - he wasn't happy with them, either, for that matter – but it had still hurt when it turned out they didn't want him at all, when they didn't even show up to see him in the hospital. He once thought that if he could just not be transgender, be normal, he would, but he spent too long denying it. Too long angry at god and the world for making a mistake and putting him in the wrong body to go back now. Too long denying himself. He knew what that meant though, knew he practically signed his own death certificate in the family department. If his own flesh and blood didn't want him, who else would? So, yeah, he went along with the girls to Callie's photo shoot, he let Michelle put up that profile on him to find him a foster family, but he knew that if he were lucky, his best chance would be an LGBTQ group home, where, at least, he could be himself and accepted. Love, affection, a family – they just weren't in the stars for him.

But on the other hand, his profile did attract someone's interest. The interest of Emily and Alex King. And, on his profile, it did say he was transgender. So they knew. He knew they knew. That meant, they were okay with it right? If he were to dream, they'd be a family who'd be cool with it, with him, accept him for who he is. But what if they didn't? What if they were like his own family? What if they only wanted to fix what they saw was broken? A lot of people were like that. Even people in this place, like Becca. Becca said that he wasn't really a boy; he just couldn't come to terms with being a lesbian. He wondered what she'd say if he were attracted to boys. It's a lot harder to argue someone wanting to change their gender just so they could be gay, right? She, like many others, just didn't understand the difference between gender and sexuality, a difference Cole knew so well.

As he lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about all the ways tomorrow could go, he didn't even notice when his roommate, Monica, came in. He didn't notice that dinner was being served until Monica shook him. He passed through dinner and chores in a haze, and though he went to bed early, stayed awake staring at the ceiling for hours. What would tomorrow bring?

* * *

Cole dressed carefully the next morning, in his favorite blue plaid shirt and chinos, topping it with a loose sweater vest despite the San Diego heat. The sweater vest was an essential part of his wardrobe; it helped cover any odd anatomical markers left by the Ace bandage around his chest. So what if Gabi said he dressed like an old man? It was his style.

He spent a while staring at his face in the mirror, not something he normally did, as he hated what he saw. First, he hated his reflection but it felt like a lie, or a cruel joke. He remembered being quite young, five or so, and thinking that there was another person in the mirror staring back at him, a girl who mimicked his every mood. He kept wondering why people said they saw themselves in the mirror. He never did. It got a little better, once he started dressing right and after he chopped off his hair with kitchen scissors at the age of about 8, much to his parent's dismay. They took him to a shrink their priest recommended, who told them that this was just a stage he was going through, that they should encourage him towards girly pursuits. He believed it a while himself, and liked the warmth and affection he was rewarded with he acted like a girl. But living a lie, holding conflicting realities in your head all the time, just became too much.

As a teenager, he started cutting his hair and dressing like a boy again. He found people who could get him the hormones he needed to transition, if he paid them. But soon enough, his parents gave him an ultimatum: stop this nonsense and be a girl, be who you were born to be, or get out. He choose to be who he was born to be – a boy – and got out. For the next ten months, the streets were his home, and he did what he needed to do to survive and get the drugs. There aren't a lot of options available when you're barely fourteen. He was caught by an undercover cop, sent to juvie, and eventually sent here, to a girl's group home, because he didn't have the right plumbing to go to the boy's, and the LGBTQ ones were full. There were perks: regular meals, a roof over your head, safety, staff who let you dress how you wanted and called you by the proper pronoun. But being off the streets meant no more hormones. And now, watching the changes in his body, he hated his reflection once again. It no longer showed who he was inside. Perhaps if he did take the family, even if they weren't so great, he'd have more freedom to get out and get the hormones. He'd survived on the streets before; he could do it again. With that in mind, he went down to breakfast with the girls.

Cole had breakfast clean-up, an easy task, and then school, but no matter how hard he tried to focus, his mind was too caught up with the meeting this afternoon. He'd heard such things described as an "interview", and he wondered if interviewing for a job felt like this. People said they got "interview jitters". Jitters was the right word about now. Finally, as each minute that passed felt like an hour, the clock read 1:25pm. The Kings were supposed to come at 1:30. Rita said he could wait for them in the living room. He stared out the window, watching the cars pass by. At 1:29, a car pulled up on the curb, and a man and a woman exited. But they went into one of the neighbor houses. At 1:33, just when he thought they'd changed their mind, another car pulled up to the curb and a woman got out. She came and knocked on the door. Rita answered.

"Hello?"

"Hi. My name is Emily King. I spoke to Michelle about Cole."

"Right, Mrs. King. Please come in."

"Call me Emily," the woman said and walked in. Cole took a minute to study her as she and Rita exchanged pleasantries. She seemed pretty ordinary. Shoulder-length brown hair, rectangular glasses, neither tall nor short, neither skinny nor fat, neither old nor young. Early to mid thirties, maybe.

Rita approached with the woman. "Cole, I'd like you to meet Emily King. Emily, this is Cole."

Emily stuck out a hand. "Hi Cole. I'm quite pleased to meet you."

"Me too," he replied quickly.

"Unfortunately, Alex is away at a conference, or else we'd both have come. But, if, you know, we get along, maybe next time?"

"Yeah, uh, sure." Rita was staring at him. Cole couldn't figure out why until, "Oh, uh, can I get you something? Would you like to sit down?"

"I'll take a seat, but otherwise, I'm fine."

"I'll leave you two to talk then," Rita said, taking her leave.

"So, Cole, how are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks, Mrs. King."

"This isn't a formal interview, and call me Emily, alright? Hearing Mrs. King makes me think my mother-in-law is standing behind me, and that is a frightening prospect." Cole couldn't help but smile at that.

"Yes, Emily."

"Better. Anyway, the last time I did something like this, the kids were 8 and 9 years old, and you're certainly not, so I don't think I have much experience here and I wouldn't exactly call social chitchat my strongest suit."

"You're the first that's shown interest in me, so I don't have much experience either. And social chitchat is lame."

"So, we're in agreement. The first? Really? That surprises me."

"Not many are interested in a transgender kid." There. It was out there. Now to see how she reacted...

"Can't see why that would stop anyone, but then again, Alex is always trying to tell me that not everyone is as open-minded as we are. I've never understood those kind of hang-ups, personally. People are people. Your personality, your words, your actions, are the things that show the kind of person you are."

"So, you really don't mind?"

"Nope. Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?"

"Well, I'm fifteen. I do well enough in school. I can cook a little, and I like to keep my things organized. I guess I've never done much in the way of activities." As he said it, he realized how pathetic it sounded.

"Maybe you just haven't found something you love yet."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Okay, well, do you want to know about me?"

"Yeah."

"Fair's fair. My name is Emily, and a lady over 30 never tells her age. I'm married to Alex, you know that, and we have two kids at home, Makensie and Jamie. Makensie's 12, Jamie's 11. We adopted them almost two years ago, and they've been begging for more siblings ever since. I'm a computer programmer, and I mostly work from home. Alex is a psychologist."

"A psychologist?"

"Don't worry, no headshrinking at home. We have very firm boundaries about the office and home."

"Oh, okay."

They talked for a while, back and forth, and Emily managed to elicit quite a bit of information from Cole that he hadn't planned on sharing, like about how his parents wouldn't take him back and that's how he ended up looking for a foster family. They realized that they shared similar tastes in movies and books – pretty much everything, with a weakness for classic science fiction – and he found her to have a very dry sense of humor, which he quite enjoyed. Eventually, there was a pause in conversation, and Cole could tell that Emily was going to say something she wasn't quite sure about.

"Can I be frank with you?" she said finally.

"Sure," he said warily.

"I know you spent a while in juvie, for drugs and the things you had to do to get them..." Long pause – oh no, here it comes, Cole thought, sitting back and crossing his arms defensively. "...I don't care."

"What?" His arms fell to his sides. He was shocked, to say the least.

"I don't care. I know I can't say I get it, that I understand what it's like to be born in the wrong body, but I feel I can empathize a little at least. I get that things were hard on you, and you did what you thought you had to do, to survive...mentally, physically, emotionally." Nobody had ever told him that they understood before.

"I wish you hadn't had to go through that, but wishing isn't going to do anything. So, what I can promise you is this. Come live with us, be part of the family. Not just until you're 18 – though we can't stop you leaving then, if you want – but for the long haul. Be a son, a big brother. Figure out what you love in life and do it. And, I promise you, we'll help you transition, if that's what you want, as long as it stays within the law. It might be tricky, it might not always be easy. Sometimes, we may fight and lose, and you have to be willing to accept that. You just won't have to do it alone."

"You'd be willing to open your house to, to expose your kids to, a felon?"

"As I said, I don't care, as long as that stuff is behind you. We might have to set a few ground rules about the kids, because they're young yet. I'm not saying hide anything – and quite frankly, they may ask questions you'll find obtrusive no matter how much we counsel them – but all I ask is that you try to keep it age appropriate, and if you're uncomfortable with answering something or unsure if you should, just find me or Alex and we'll help."

"Wow."

"I get it, it's a lot to take in, to think about. And you should think about it. As I said, we can do the long haul. But this is a two-way street. Can you tell me, will you at least consider my offer?"

"What about the rest of your family?"

"I'm sure they'll love you too, but why don't you all meet and we'll see? Rita tells me Family Day is on Saturdays, and that you usually don't have many visitors? Why don't we come this Saturday – Alex will be back by then, the kids will be out of school – and we can all get to know each other a little more?"

"Uh, yeah, sure, sounds great."

"I'll tell Alex, she'll be thrilled. She really wish she could've made it, but we didn't feel like putting this introduction off til later."

"She?"

"Yeah, didn't I say that?"

"You didn't."

"Oh, yeah, then, we're lesbians. Does that bother you?"

"Nope. Should it?"

"I don't see why. As I said, I never understood these hang-ups some folks have."

"People are people."

"Precisely." She looked at her watch. "I'm afraid I have to go, the kids will be home soon from school. Here's my card, feel free to contact me at any time, ask me anything, and I'll see you Saturday?"

"Yeah, that's the plan."

"Well, alright then." She paused. "Would you mind terribly if I hugged you? I feel like hugging you. Is it too soon?"

Cole considered it. Normally, he didn't really do hugs. Big surprise; nobody ever hugged him. But even though he'd only known Emily for about an hour, he felt like he'd known her for much longer than that. And moreover, she felt sincere, and while he didn't exactly know how to react to that, it seemed good. "Sure."

Emily reached out and hugged him. It took a little for Cole to remember what to do with his arms, and the hug was short, friendly-like, not too tight, not too intrusive. It felt...good. "Thanks," Emily said.

"Yeah," he said, trying (and failing) to appear nonchalant about it.

"See you Saturday?"

"See you Saturday." He confirmed, showing her to the door. He watched her get into her car and drive away, holding the memory of the hug in his heart and her card in his hand. Of all the possible scenarios that had played out in his head over the last 24 hours, none of them had been like this. She was...accepting of him, of all of him. Unreservedly. When was the last time someone had given him that? Maybe there was grounds for hope here. Hope for a family, a real family.


	2. Family Day

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Fosters, only the plot and any characters you don't recognize from the show._

_Author's Note: Back again, with another chapter. Enjoy!_

* * *

Cole turned to look at the alarm clock. Neon red letters read 4:26am. It had been seven minutes since the last time he had checked the clock, but it felt like it should have been an hour. His mind was racing as he lay in bed in the dark, fingers linked behind his head, thinking the day through again. Today was Saturday. Saturdays are Family Days. Normally, this wouldn't been anything to him. In the months he'd been here, nobody had ever come on Family Day for him. He remembered Callie's first Family Day. It's highly unusual for someone to get six people at once. Callie probably single-handedly doubled the amount of visitors that day. And now, finally, it was his turn. Emily – he turned that name over in his mouth softly, as if he were tasting it – had said that she would come with her wife, Alex, and their two preteen children, Makensie and Jamie, to meet him. That's four people. And, while he'd been a little anxious, he really didn't think that she'd bail on him. At least, he'd really hoped she wouldn't. Rita had confirmed it yesterday, in fact, saying that she'd called to double-check the time.

The clock now read 4:35am, and Cole just couldn't stand it any longer. He'd been lying in bed, awake, for almost an hour, thinking about all the possible ways things could go wrong today, and he just needed to do something. Using a skill gained from long practice, he got up quietly, careful not to wake Monica in the next bed, and lifted some clothes from his dresser. He was careful, walking across the hall to the bathroom, making sure to avoid the floorboard that squeaked. Becca often teased him for taking as long in the bathroom as any girl, but there were things he had to do, things that didn't involve applying make-up. He pulled on boxers, and carefully began the process of wrapping an Ace bandage around his chest. Long practice made him rather good at it, he thought, and after donning a plaid shirt, he examined his work in the mirror with a critical eye. No strange bulges, no ridges in the bandage. Not, perhaps, as flat as he would like, but he needed a proper binder for that. Or surgery. He pulled on jeans and his old sweater vest. There was no use dressing nicely, not yet. There were things to do first.

After putting his stuff back in his room, Cole went downstairs and into the kitchen. He was not on breakfast duty today, and it was probably too early to start anyway. Besides, it would just be cereal; the cooking for Family Day required too much time and effort for anything else. Instead, he started to clean. The kitchen would just get messy, so he skipped that and started the living room instead. He stopped at the point he'd need to vacuum; that would be too noisy, so he did the downstairs bathroom instead, until everything was clean and shiny. There was still time, and he just needed something to do. When Rita came into the kitchen a little after six, she found him obsessively organizing the cupboards in the kitchen.

"Cole?" she asked.

He spun around with a start. "Oh, uh, hi?"

"How long have you been up?"

He looked at the clock. "A little over an hour."

"Couldn't sleep?"

"Not really."

"Anxious about today?"

"No." His answer was too quick, and Rita's face softened.

"It'll be okay."

"I just needed something to do," he admitted.

"And you did a wonderful job. You certainly did your part of the cleaning."

"I thought it was too early to start cooking. Wait, did you get the ingredients?"

"Yes, I did; they're back there."

"Okay, good." Cole had a favorite recipe that he wanted to cook for his potential new family, figuring that everyone loves a boy who can cook. "Oh!"

"What?"

"What if they're vegetarian?!"

"Why don't you do half chicken and half vegetable so all your bases are covered?"

"Right. Good." Girls started to arrive from upstairs, rubbing sleep from their eyes. Gabby was the first to arrive, and pulled out the bowls, cereal boxes, and milk, placing them on the table. Monica was up next, raising an eyebrow at Cole but saying nothing. The rest of the girls trickled in and they all started to eat.

Rita stood. "Girls, as you all know, it's Family Day. We've got about four hours to get cooking and cleaning. Cole got a bit of a head start on you this morning. Cole, what did you do?"

"Most of the living room and downstairs bathroom."

"Alright. Shelby, the downstairs was your's, so you'll switch with Cole and do the upstairs instead, alright?"

"Sure, whatever."

"Then let's get going." Cole ended up helping Monica was the breakfast dishes, just so he could start cooking faster. He had the kitchen to himself, and applied himself quickly to the recipe for the dinner rolls. They had to rise twice, for an hour each time. After he had set them for the first rising, he started chopping for the other recipe, combining the chicken with half the onions, green onions, cilantro, red curry paste, and lime juice in one skillet. In another skillet, he substituted the chicken with mushrooms, and added the rest of the ingredients. After both had cooled for five minutes, he stirred in some mozzarella cheese. In another bowl, he added flour, baking powder, salt, butter, milk, and eggs. In muffin tins, he placed one tablespoon of the baking mixture, followed by a quarter-cup of the chicken/mushroom mixture, and topped it with another tablespoon of baking mixture. He was just about finished, when the alarm rang and he had to knead the dinner rolls again. He rolled them out, in a mixture of pecans, almonds, sunflower seeds, and toffee bits, and then set them to rise again.

By that time, both Becca and Carmen had joined him in the kitchen, Becca making orange chicken and Carmen working on a cheesy nacho casserole as an appetizer. Cole quickly shoved his mini Thai pies into the oven, and whipped up a batch of peanut sauce to go with them. As he cleaned up his mess, he kept an eye on the clock. Once Monica joined the kitchen crew, chopping up fruit to make a fruit salad, it became too crowded, and Cole disappeared into the next room. His pies would be done soon, and he hoped they had listened to him when he warned them not to thump or else his rolls would fall.

He pulled the pies out right as Carmen was ready to put her nachos in (fortunately, both dishes used the same temperature, or there could have been problems). His rolls required a slightly lower temperature, but he tended to like to cook those last, as they infused the house with the wonderful smell of baking things. Besides, they only needed about 20 minutes. He left the rolls long enough to wander throughout the house, making certain everything was just right. A brief stop in the living room allowed him enough time to finish vacuuming, and he did as near a perfect job as he could. There wasn't much amiss as he finished his tour, but Cole couldn't help but make sure every last thing was neat and orderly and in its exact place.

A ding alerted him to his rolls. They had risen nicely, and fortunately the oven was free. After putting them in, dodging Becca who was frying her chicken and Shelby who was making some kind of salad, he disappeared upstairs to clean up and change. Cole took over the bathroom, taking a quick shower as his efforts to cook and clean had made him sweat. He rewound the Ace bandage, again wishing for a binder or surgery (preferably surgery), and dressed carefully in a light yellow button-up shirt, chocolate brown trousers, and a yellow argyle sweater vest. He was careful with his hair, which made him feel uncomfortably girly. A check on the clock made him race downstairs to check on his rolls (which were done), and then he had to go back upstairs to clear his stuff from the bathroom, and put it away in his room. Finally, he sat down on his bed.

It was almost 11:00, and he was happy that he had been able to keep mind and body busy over the last few hours. They'd be here soon. Would they like it, like him? With that thought, he went back downstairs and started obsessively checking that everything was perfect.

Becca noticed. "_Ni_cole's acting crazy, today," she said.

"Give it a rest, Becca," Shelby said. "His new family is coming. You'd be anxious, too."

"Her maybe new family," Becca sneered. "Frankly, I'm surprised anyone would want her, addicted as she is to being a boy. She should just admit to being a lesbian, like Carmen, and get over it."

"Hush, Becca, he'll hear" Shelby scolded. "You've got issues, we all get that. Stop taking them out on Cole. Give it a rest."

Cole could hear, but Becca's words were nothing that he hadn't heard before. It made him angry, but it also made him sad. Talks with Rita and Michelle had convinced him that Becca was lashing out, that he was an easy target for her not having to deal with her own problems. And that she had issues with men, not in the lesbian sense, but in the 'Mommy's boyfriends' sense, so him trying to be a man was especially difficult for her. He understood her better now, but it didn't make things any easier. And even though he was sorely tempted sometimes, he never threw the cutting into her face when she did start on him. He was trying to be the better person.

People starting coming in around 11:00. Carmen's parents showed up; they came about every other week or so. Gabby had a cousin, Monica an aunt. Shelby had an older brother, an adult; he was trying to get back on the straight-and-narrow so he could become her legal guardian since their parents were so screwed up. He was also trying to get a younger brother out of foster care. Aysha, the new girl, didn't have her privileges yet, so both she and Becca had nobody.

At 11:15, Cole started having an internal freak-out. They weren't coming. They didn't want him. Or maybe they got into some horrible car accident on the way over. That would just be his luck. And then, as he was about ready to go upstairs, he saw Emily's car, the car he had memorized on her last visit, just in case he ever had the chance to see it again. And four people exited the car – Emily, another woman, a boy, and a girl. He studied them closely as they walked up to the house. The other woman was a little shorter than Emily, a little rounder, but she had a kind face. The boy wore thick glasses and seemed to walk with a bit of a limp, the girl ran free, skipping around the little family. Alex, for that must be the other woman, helped the boy up the stairs, while Emily reached to knock. Cole beat her to it.

"Hello," he said, politely.

"Hi Cole, good to see you again. This is Makensie-"

"You can call me Mac," the girl offered.

"This is Jamie," the boy had made it up the stairs by then, "and this is Alex, my wife. Family, I'd like you to meet Cole."

"Emily has told us encouraging things about you," Alex said, offering her hand with a smile. Cole took it.

"Are you really going to be my brother?" Jamie asked.

Cole glanced up at Emily. "We'll see," Emily told her son.

"Why don't you all come inside?" Cole said, remembering that it was impolite to keep them on the porch.

"Thank you," Alex replied, and motioned her family instead.

Rita appeared. "Well, welcome. I'm Rita, for those who haven't met me. Come on in, take a seat."

Cole found them an empty couch and a couple of chairs. He sat with them, awkwardly, before jumping up, "Are you thirsty? Can I get you anything?"

"Water would be nice,"Alex said. The rest nodded. Cole went into the kitchen. Aysha was there, still cooking.

"So that's who may be your new foster family?"

"Yeah."

"Lesbians?"

"So what?"

"Nuthin'. It's cool."

Cole grabbed a tray, put some glasses on it, and a pitcher of ice water that had fresh raspberries floating in it. "Do you like raspberries?" he asked, nervously. "I can get you plain water."

"I adore raspberries," Emily said, accepting a glass.

"We have raspberry plants at home," Mac added, also accepting a glass. "And blueberries and strawberries and lemons and even an apple tree."

"And tomatoes," Jamie told his sister.

"I was naming the fruit."

"Tomatoes are a fruit."

"Well, we usually eat them with vegetables. They should be a vegetable."

"Except they're not."

"Kids," Alex prompted.

"Do you live on a farm?" Cole asked, confused.

"No, we just have a bit of a garden on a little more than an acre of land," Emily said.

"And a nice big house; you have your own room," Mac added.

"I will?"

"Yep. It's right next to mine. Jamie is across the hall, near Moms'."

Cole noticed that Jamie was carefully studying him, and it was a little unnerving, the intensity of the look coming from behind those thick glasses in such a young face. Finally, Jamie spoke, and his question was not one that Cole would have anticipated.

"Are you a superhero?"

"Am I what?" Cole was confused.

"A superhero."

"Umm."

"Maybe you can't tell me; it's like your cover or something. But if you're going to be my brother, you should tell your family members."

"Why do you think I'm a superhero?"

"Well, you look one way on the outside, but are different on the inside. Lots of superheroes have two aspects. Like Superman, who is nerdy reporter Clark Kent on the outside. Or Spiderman, who is nerdy photographer and scientist Peter Parker. Or Batman, who is playboy millionaire Bruce Wayne. Or-"

"I think he's got it, Jamie," Alex interrupted.

"You must have awesome powers to be able to switch your disguises so readily if you want. Most superheroes have to stay one gender, on the outside and the inside. But not you, right?"

Cole looked at Emily. Was this one of the moments he was supposed to ask for help? Should he answer Jamie? How should he answer?

"If Cole's got a superpower, he can't blow his cover yet," said Emily. She turned to Cole. "Jamie likes superheroes. He's got quite the comic book collection."

"I'm going to be a superhero when I grow up. I mean, I look weak and nerdy now, with my big glasses, but so did Peter Parker before he got bit by a spider." Jamie spoke confidently.

"No spiders," Alex warned. It seemed like an old debate.

Mac, bored, changed the topic. "My birthday's in a month or so," she told Cole, excitedly. "Are you coming? If you're going to be my big brother, you should totally come."

"I'll try to make it," Cole told her.

"Good."

"Families," Rita called out. "Would you place join us in the dining room? The girls have prepared a late lunch."

Cole led the Kings into the dinner room. "This all looks delicious," Alex said.

"We do all the cooking and cleaning ourselves," Cole told her.

"That's right," Emily said. "You said that you cooked a little. Did you make any of this?"

"Um, yeah," Cole said. "I made those rolls," he said, pointing, "and these," motioning at the pies.

"What are they?" Mac asked.

"They're called mini Thai pies. Those have chicken, and those are vegetarian."

"Well, then, we'll have to try them," Emily said, choosing one of the vegetarian ones. Cole noticed that Alex, Mac, and Jamie all took the chicken. Jamie, in fact, looked like he had a plate of everything. Mac was the pickier eater.

As they sat back down, Alex asked, "So, do you like to cook?"

"I do, actually."

"Me, too. Emily does most of the baking. It seems like you do both, and well."

Cole blushed a little. Emily stepped in to rescue him from embarrassment. "How'd you learn?"

"I learned here. They make us go to cooking classes after school. So, Chinese, Italian, Indian, Mexican, Thai, Southern home-style..."

"That's quite the range."

"Yeah, but I like it. Mixing up styles is kinda fun, too. Carmen, she makes these meatballs from ground beef and cornbread, and tops them with enchilada sauce. Stuff like that."

"That sounds like fun."

"I'm done," Mac said shortly. She looked at the foosball table longingly. "Can we play?" she asked Emily.

"Cole?" Emily redirected the question.

"It's fine," Cole said.

"Go, but keep the noise down," Emily told her kids. "Remember, there are other people here, too."

"Yeah, yeah, we know," Mac said. She ran off, Jamie following more slowly.

Cole's stomach was too tight to eat much, so he picked at his food, while Emily and Alex finished up. When he noticed they were finished, he asked, "Do you want some more?"

"That was delicious, but I think I've eaten all I can," Emily said. Alex nodded in agreement.

"Can I take your plates, then?"

"In a minute. Let's talk, first." But though Alex had said it, she did not seem forthcoming, and they sat in silence.

"You're good with them," Emily commented, eyes turning towards the kids. "And they like you. We were waiting to see if that would be so."

"They're great kids."

"I hope Jamie didn't offend you, with his comments about superheroes."

"Not at all. In fact, I don't think I've ever had anyone think I'm a superhero before. Mostly they just call me freak. I kinda like the superhero idea."

"Well, you'll certainly hear a lot more of it."

Cole paused for a second, unsure, and then came out with you. "They're talking like this is a sure thing. You're talking like you've already made up your mind about me."

"We've talked about you a lot, Cole. We weren't seriously looking when we came across your profile, even though Mac and Jamie have been asking for more siblings. They're part of a larger sibling group, though their other siblings are adopted to different families, so I think they're just used to crowds. But when we came across your profile, something about you drew us in and we thought that maybe this was the right time. After Emily met you, and came home glowing, it seemed more sure. I mean, I wanted to meet you for myself, but really, what we wanted to see was how you interacted with Mac and Jamie," Alex said.

"And you passed with flying colors," Emily said.

"That's not to say we think it's all going to be sunshine and roses. There's going to be times when they really get on your nerves and you snap, and we expect that. Actually, when that happens, it means you will be finally comfortable in your role as brother. And likely, there are other things that will come up and need to be hashed out. That's fine, too."

"The last time I was here, I asked you to consider us. What do you think about all this? I mean, here we are plowing ahead, but is this something you want?" Emily asked.

Cole hesitated. "I wasn't expecting anyone to respond to my profile. Who wants a freak?"

"You're not a freak, and we do."

"Say yes. Please, Cole, say yes," the high voice of Mac was suddenly coming from behind him, and Cole jumped a little in his seat.

"Yes, Cole. Say yes. There are too many girls at home as it is." It was Jamie's simple phrase that really undid him. Too many girls at home. Jamie did not, then, put him into that category. That simple acceptance was all that Cole had ever wanted.

"Yes." He said. "Yes."

"We'll talk to your social worker on Monday, then," Emily said, with a huge smile. The kids squealed and Mac gave him a tight hug, followed by Emily.

Jamie gave him a look. "Girls" was all he said, sounding exasperated.

"Where's the bathroom?" Alex asked, as the excitement died down.

"Down the hall," Cole offered. "Do you want me to show you?"

"I'm sure I can find it, but thanks." She got up and left, quietly processing the recent turn of events. Emily always went full speed ahead, but Alex was a little more cautious about shaking things up. There was something about Cole, though, and she had to agree with Emily's feeling that he would be a good fit for their family. As Alex was returning to her soon-to-be-expanded family, she noticed a teenage girl lurking around her.

"Hi," she said, her psychologist-trained mind catching a sense of something.

"You're here for Cole?"

"Yes. I'm Alex. What's your name?"

"I'm Carmen. Are you really adopting him?"

"Fostering, yes. Adopting, hopefully."

"That's cool. Cole's lucky, finding people like you. I suppose, you're pretty open-minded."

"I try to be."

"It must be nice to be in a place where people are cool with you."

"You mean Cole, being transgender?"

"No, well, yeah, but I mean you, too. You're lesbians, right?"

"Yeah, Emily and I are married."

"That's cool. Where I come from, people aren't so cool with that."

"Sometimes it can be difficult to be out when your family is from a culture where heterosexual is the only accepted orientation," Alex offered. She was starting to see why this girl wanted to talk to her.

"Something like that," was all Carmen said. She seemed to shut back down, and Alex knew that she had lost the moment.

Alex reached into her pocket and pulled out a card. "Here's my card. Call me if you ever want to talk about it."

"I don't have any money to see a shrink."

"Who said anything about money?" She motioned with the hand still holding the card, and Carmen finally took it, before walking away without a word. Alex sighed. Coming out was never easy. It wasn't easy for her, and if she could spare another teenager that pain, she would. It was her own private crusade, and one of the reasons she knew they had to help Cole. One study had shown that 45% of transgender youth aged 18-24 had attempted suicide at least once, and one of the strongest determinants of that was having no support system and an unstable environment.

"It's looks like people are starting to go," she commented, getting back to her family.

"Technically, we wrap up at four," Cole said, checking the clock. "But Rita's not too strict about being exactly on time, not on Family Day." It was quarter to four.

"Well, let's not chance her wrath, not the first visit. Kids, bathroom?" Alex asked.

"Yep."

"Yep."

"It's back here," Alex said, leading the way.

Emily smiled at Cole. "I could stay here and talk to you for hours, but that time will come. We have to get the kids home; the more of a schedule we keep, the better it works out for everything."

"I understand."

"They'll be time enough later, once you come home."

"You really mean it?"

"Yes, we do. We'll talk to your social worker in the morning, and get the ball rolling. I can't tell you how long it'll take – it could be a week, it could be a month – but I will promise that every week you're still here, we'll come on Family Day, just to prove that we haven't forgotten about you, alright?"

"Alright."

"Hug?"

"Sure." As Emily hugged him, Cole thought that he could get used to this. He really could.

"You better be around by my birthday," Mac said, coming up behind him unexpectedly, again. It might take a little longer to get used to that.


	3. New Home

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Fosters, only the plot and any characters you don't recognize from the show._

_Author's Note: Yay for spring break! Sorry I haven't updated in a while; the end of last quarter was crazy, but here's another chapter for you. Also, I meant to say this earlier, but this story comes from my head and some web browsing, so I apologize for any inaccuracies and I hope I'm not inadvertently offending anyone. Please, if I need to/should fix something, tell me by review or PM, and I'll do my best._

_Trigger warning: Flashbacks of prostitution, not very detailed._

* * *

After a span of time that seemed both agonizingly long and surprisingly short, it was time for Cole to leave Girls United. He had mixed feelings about it. In a way, he was relieved, happy to get out of this place for _girls_. But he was also apprehensive; no, scratch that, he was scared. While this can never been home, it was something he knew, and the first stable place he'd been in for years. The Kings – that was the unknown, and he didn't know how to prepare for it. He flashed back to the last home he'd left and the new place he'd found for himself.

* * *

"_Get straight or get out." The chilling words replayed themselves over and over in his head. They never got that it wasn't about being straight or gay; he was straight, if by straight, you meant he was a boy who was interested in girls. Yet no matter how many times he tried to explain, they just wouldn't understand it, wouldn't listen, wouldn't read any of the books or pamphlets he brought home. Nobody could say that he didn't try. All that mattered was what was on the outside, because that is the part that people saw. And his parents couldn't bear their rich country club friends to see their daughter, who'd always been dressed like a princess and paraded around at parties, dress and act like a boy. (He hated those princess dresses; they lay in a ribbed and destroyed pile in the bottom of his class. He'd even burned one once, and boy did he get in trouble for that.)_

"_Get straight or get out." They told him to stop this nonsense and be who he was born to be. So he did. He got out. No more lying, no more pretending. Yes, he did hope that if he actually did leave, his parents might regret their harsh words and take him back, because parents are supposed to love their children, right? Or not. He'd known that the streets were not a good place to be, but he hadn't expected it, not really. It's not something a person can prepare for. Nobody hires a fourteen year old who doesn't even have a home address to put on an application, or any kind of identification. He was cold, he was hungry, he was dirty. He was at least thankful that he lived in southern California and not, say, Alaska, because at least he didn't usually run the danger of freezing to death._

_One cold night, curled on a park bench, stomach growling from lack of food, they found him. From the viewpoint of a starving fourteen year old, he'd thought they were women, not girls. He later figured out that they weren't more than a few years older than him, sixteen and eighteen. Living on the streets had aged them both beyond their years. They took pity on him, offered him a place to stay and a meal, though they warned him that they didn't have any extra and he'd have to pull his own weight if he wanted to stay. They took him to a one-bedroom apartment that they shared with four others in their teens and early twenties. At first, all he knows is that they all work at night. Finally, after another day or two of fruitless job searching, he asked them if they can get him a job where they work. And that is when they tell him the truth._

"_It's an easy job," one of them told him. "You just let them do what they want to do, do what they ask, and they give you some money."_

"_Sometimes, you do it in their car. The nicer ones take you to a motel. You get taken to a motel, you find a maid's cart on the way out and help yourself to some towels, soap, toilet paper, whatever you can find."_

"_Being a tranny turns some of them on." They knew what he was; it's hard to hide in such close quarters. "Besides, usually you can just give them some oral attention, you know what I mean." He didn't, and laughing at his naivete, they told him._

"_It pays the bills, keeps you supplied, you know." By supplied, he knew they meant drugs. Most of them were on some kind of drugs, cocaine or heroin. He wanted a different kind of drugs, and no longer having illicit access to his mom or dad's wallet, he could no longer pay his hook-up for the hormones. And his body was starting to feel the effects._

_So Cole, who had never so much as kissed a girl before, took the job. They showed him what areas of town to hang out in, where cars would drive up and you could negotiate a deal. They showed him how to dress to grab attention, how to convince a john to use protection. He didn't turn more than a few tricks a week, so they taught him other ways to get fed. _

_With his young, innocent face, he usually ended up as the one stealing stuff from the mini-marts while one of the older girls distracted the clerk (they knew which ones had the young pimply clerks who never got attention from girls at school) by flirting and buying a pack of gum. They got quite good at it, Cole especially, and the more money they could save on food, the more they had to spend on other things._

_One of other members of the apartment got herself hooked up with a pimp, and tried to recruit her former housemates. Her pimp took care of her, she said, made sure no john got too rowdy and bought her clothes, jewelry, and drugs. Some of the other girls allowed themselves to be taken in, but neither Cole nor the two women who found him did. They told him about the dangers, and he believed them. He'd had his life controlled before; he'd rather deal with a little poverty and keep his freedom._

_It wasn't an easy life, but it wasn't an impossible one either. He'd prefer a different job, but for the first time, he'd found people who were kind to him, who accepted him. Sure, there were bad times, times when johns would use him like a girl despite the negotiation. Times when they'd hit him, beat him. But he'd rather take abuse from strangers than from his own family._

_But the only constant in life is change, and Cole's life changed again when he got caught by an undercover cop._

* * *

And now life was about to change again. He characterized his first life, with his parents, as bad people and a good situation (if, by good, you mean that he had a roof over his head, clothes on his back, education, and safety). He characterized his second life as good people (his friends, that is) and a bad situation. His third life, in the system, was middling on both accounts; mostly the people were reasonably good, some of them were paid to be though none were his friend, and the situation was better than the streets, except he had no freedom and no hormones. What would his fourth life be like?

"Cole!" Michelle's voice called him back to the present. "Daydreaming much? They're here. Time to go."

His eyes dashed to the clock. Sure enough, it was just after noon. He's grown to realize that this was just a family that ran a little late and stopped freaking out so much about it. He got up off the bed, and grabbed his suitcase.

"You better keep in touch, young man," Michelle said, as they walked downstairs. "Let us know how things are going, and if you need anything, know that we're here for you, in case things don't work out like you expect."

"Uh, okay."

"Not that I'm saying it's not going to work out. I mean, I'm sure it is. The Kings are great, you seemed to really hit it off with them, but sometimes it can be difficult to adjust to a new environment is all. Besides, you've kinda grown on me."

"You've grown on me, too."

Emily and Alex were waiting for him in the foyer. "Hi Cole," Emily said. "Are you ready to go home?"

He smiled. As much as it made him nervous, he liked the sound of that. "Yeah."

"Well, alright then. Do you need some time to say your goodbyes?"

"I did already." And he had, at group this morning.

"Remember what I said, about keeping in touch," Michelle said.

"I will," Cole promised. She gave him a half hug and sent him out the door. Alex took his suitcase from him and put it into the trunk of the car. Cole climbed in the back seat.

"We're really happy that you're coming home with us," she said.

"Kids are too. They wanted to skip school today and join us, but since it's the last week, we told them they'd just have to wait and see you after school," Emily added.

"We've only got about a forty-five minute drive, not too bad. Buckled up?"

"Yeah."

"Then let's go home." Emily and Alex filled the short car ride with chatter and the radio played softly in the background. Cole managed to respond appropriately when necessary, but all this hadn't quite sunk in yet, not until they pulled up to a house.

It was a subdued, yet cheery shade of yellow. A covered front porch with a swing made it seem welcoming somehow. Cole noted the lack of stairs, and the fact that it was only a single story. These, then, were people who designed their lives around the needs of their kids; this was a house made for Jamie to move around in freely. After only knowing parents who tried to design their kid around their lives, it seemed almost too good to be true.

"Coming, Cole?" Emily asked, smiling. Alex had his suitcase in hand, and they were waiting several paces ahead of him. He hurried to catch up. They led him inside.

"Welcome to your new home," Alex said.

Cole's eyes tried to take it all in at once. The front door opened upon a big vaulted living room, with couches and chairs centered around a fireplace. An entertainment center off to one side showed that media was not neglected, but also not the center of things. In Cole's old house, a huge flat-screen television was the focal point of the family room, and a pristine parlor was where his parents had entertained visitors. This place showed evidence that a family lived here, and lived fully. The living room led to a dining area and a kitchen, and just off the kitchen was a patio.

Cole turned to Emily and Alex. "I like it," he said with a smile. "It's cozy. It, I don't know, it feels real."

"Do you want to see your room?" Emily asked. He nodded.

They led him down a hallway. Three doors led off to the left, and two were on the right side, with another door at the very end. Emily opened the first door on the right. The room was plain, with a bed, a desk, a nightstand, a dresser, and a closet. A window, with a bit of a seat in it, looked onto the front porch.

He sat on the bed, looking around. Even Alex couldn't quite decipher the look in his eyes or his body language.

"I know it's plain," Emily said, nervously. "But we'd thought we'd wait to decorate it until you got here, so you could pick out what you wanted, you know."

He turned to her. "It's great. It's my own. I've never had my own room." His face fell. "I didn't share at my...uh, parents' house... but it wasn't really mine. It belonged to their daughter, Nicole. Pink. Frilly. Princess-y. Posters of boy bands on the walls."

Alex and Emily sat on the bed on either side of him. "You must have felt like a fish out of water," Alex said.

"Something like that."

"Well, you can make this place your very own. We can paint the walls, get some new stuff. You might have to sleep on the couch for a night or two, if things need to dry, but it will be all your's."

"Any ideas?" Alex prompted.

"I...just...," Cole seemed at a loss for words. It was just too much at once.

"Think on it," Alex suggested. "It doesn't have to happen overnight. Rooms are constantly changing, as we grow and accumulate more things and change our interests."

"Why don't we let you unpack, and when you're ready, you can come out and join us? Oh, are you hungry?"

"A little," Cole admitted.

"I'll figure out something for lunch then," Alex said. She and Emily took their leave.

Cole didn't make a move toward his suitcase right away. It still all seemed too good to be true. His own room? He could decorate it however he wanted? When would the other shoe drop? Did he dare get comfortable here? Wouldn't that make it so much harder when it was time to leave?

Unpacking couldn't hurt. He'd unpacked at Girls United, after all, and it wasn't like he had all that much stuff that he couldn't pack it up again in a hurry. Carefully, neatly, he arranged his clothes in the closet and the dresser, and set his few knickknacks and books on empty shelves. The room looked bare, empty, and he thought again about the Kings' offer. He'd never had the option to decorate before. If they wanted to spend money on him, should he just let them and enjoy it, even if it wasn't going to last? Or should he try to be inexpensive, because being a financial burden might cause them to kick him back sooner? Pros, cons, pros, cons, he thought, as he tried to balance the imaginary scales in his mind. Everything was a balancing act, that much he had learned.

His stomach growled. Oh, right, Alex had said she was going to put together lunch. Had he kept them waiting too long? He exited out his bedroom, and took the short walk to the kitchen. Alex and Emily were leaning on the counter, talking. He couldn't hear what they were saying, and they fell silent when he approached. People always seemed to fall silent when he approached.

"I never asked," Alex said. "What kind of sandwich toppings do you like? We have tuna, ham, roast beef, peanut butter and jelly...?"

"Roast beef, please?" Cole said.

"Cheese, lettuce, tomato, mayo?"

"Sure." Within moments, a sandwich was placed before him.

"Here you go," Alex said, with a flourish that made him smile.

"Kids will be home soon. They'll be so excited to see you," Emily said, as Cole ate.

"Yeah, uh, me too."

"So, listen, we were thinking about hosting a barbecue this Saturday and inviting a few friends and family over, not too many..."

"The important ones-" Alex interrupted.

"...so you can meet them, and they can meet you," Emily said.

"But, if you think it'll be too overwhelming, we don't have to," Alex added.

"Yeah. We can spread it out over a period of time, if you prefer, or maybe wait and let you settle in first, and then do the barbecue in another week."

"We do think you should meet at least a couple of people before the big Fourth of July bash- slash- birthday party in a couple weeks, or else you'll not know anyone and everyone will be swarming to meet you."

"So, what do you think?"

"Hmm..." Cole was thinking. Meeting a bunch of new people – and getting judged by them – was not his idea of a good time, not ever. But it was nice to think that they wanted their friends and family to meet him; it added to the idea that they were really planning on keeping him long-term. (Yes, he knew that's what they said the plan was, and yes, they seemed sincere enough, but he didn't count on anything ever. Happy endings didn't seem to be his lot in life.)

"Not too many people?" He asked finally, receiving encouraging nods in return. "That should be fine, I guess. For the barbecue, I mean."

"We were thinking of inviting my parents and my sister's family..." Alex began.

"My dad lives in Hawaii," Emily interrupted, "and my mom doesn't do parties. We'll have her over for dinner soon, so you guys can meet."

"...and a very dear friend and her family. She has kids somewhere around your age, so hopefully you'll find someone to talk to."

Cole shrugged noncommittally.

"That's fourteen new people right there, and it's possible Mac and/or Jamie might want to invite a friend."

"How many adults?" Cole asked.

"Six," Alex answered.

"Eight kids, then."

"Yep, ranging from sixteen to nine."

"Okay," Cole agreed. Fourteen wasn't too bad, and it was only Wednesday. It would be like Family Day at Girls United.

"Great," Emily said. "We'll make the calls today then. I was hoping, I mean, if you want, you might help me cook? Everybody will bring something, of course, and Alex's dad will take over the barbecue-"

"It's some kind of thing with him. I'm perfectly capable, but he takes control every time," she said with an eyeroll.

"Sure. I can help," Cole said. It would be just like Family Day at Girls United. Good thing he liked to cook.

Just then the door burst open. "IT'S SUMMMMMMMERRRRRRR!" Mac's voice rang out. "IS COLE HERE?" She suddenly turned the corner into the kitchen. "Hey Cole! You're here! Moms said we had to go to school. It was the last day. Nothing ever happens on the last day. But it's summer now. And you're here! So it's going to be a really good summer. How long have you been here? What have you done? Have you seen your room yet? Moms said they were going to wait for you to decorate it. Decorating is fun. I'm so glad you arrived before my birthday. It's on the Fourth of July, did I tell you that?"

"Mac, breathe," Emily instructed her fast-talking daughter. "And where's Jamie?"

"He's coming. Paul had a video game to lend him, or something. Paul's mom invited us to go swimming at their place after school, but I said that our new brother was coming today so we had to come home, but she said maybe tomorrow or later this week and that we could totally bring Cole."

Alex took a look at Cole, whose face went ashen at the mention of swimming. She could guess the feelings swirling around his head right now. "We'll see," she told Mac.

Just then, the door swung open again and Jamie came inside. "Hey Cole! Sorry, but Paul had this new game. Do you like video games?"

"Haven't played them enough to know," Cole answered.

"I'll show you then," Jamie offered. He turned to his moms. "Paul's mom said we could come swimming and bring Cole."

"I already told them that," Mac said.

"As I told your sister, we'll see," Alex informed her son.

"Cole's only seen his room and the family rooms. Why don't you guys give him the rest of the tour, inside and outside?"

"Okay. Can we go to the park down the block, too? Cole should have a good idea of the neighborhood," Mac said. "You made sure we did when we came here."

"Jamie?" Emily asked.

"I'm good."

"Alright. You guys can walk him down there if you want, but come right back."

"Uh, really?"

"Yes, really. We'll all go later in the evening, when it cools down a bit, if you still want."

"Okay. Sweet. Cole, come see my room!"

"Why would Cole want to see a girl's room?" Jamie asked doubtfully. "Come see my room. I'll show you my comic book collection."

"It was my idea. My room first."

"Rock paper scissors?" Cole tentatively suggested.

Mac and Jamie jumped on it. "Best two out of three," Mac declared. Jamie won.

"C'mon," he said to Cole, pulling him down the hall. Mac followed, veering off to drop her backpack in her bedroom, before following them into Jamie's room. Alex and Emily watched them go, wearing identical smiles.

* * *

_Author's Note 2: Any suggestions for what Cole should do with his room?_


End file.
